"I suppose that the general will use all his."
"Of course. And I will do what I can. But the general is not in Madrid, and you know as well as I do that these delicate transactions cannot be managed through correspondence, or arranged in this way, ever. We must be always on the track, worry the minister with visits, speak to all his friends, so as to keep it before his attention, and, if it were possible, threaten him with some summons to the Cortes concerning some delicate affair which he would not like to have made public."
"Caramba! Perico, you have made great advances in short time. You understand wire-pulling to the last detail."
"How so?"
"Man alive! certainly; for it is not this way that it is explained and defined to us by the treatises."
Mendoza shrugged his shoulders, at the same time pressing his lips into a sign of disdain.
"Well, then you want to bring the general back to Madrid?" added Miguel.
"That is impossible."
"Then what shall we do?"
Mendoza meditated.
"If you had been elected deputy, the thing would be much easier. In that case we should be two to ask the minister, who, looking out for his future interests, would be much more careful not to go counter to us...."
"But as I am not a deputy!"
Mendoza meditated another long time, and said:—
"Still it can all be arranged. The general, when he accepted the post of ambassador, left one district vacant, that of Serín, in Galicia. They will soon be having the second elections. If the government will accept you as candidato adicto, you are certain of a triumph."
Rivera said nothing, and seemed also lost in thought.
"Hitherto, Perico, I have never had the least idea of being the father of my country. You know well that I am of no good for kicking my heels in the ante-chambers of ministers, that I am not one to suffer impertinences and scorn, nor have I the talent for manœuvring plots, nor the audacity for meddling in dark intrigues. I am so constituted that a cool look wounds me, a discourteous word annoys me, any disloyalty crushes and overwhelms me. I am incapable of giving my word and not fulfilling it; I have not sufficient calmness to keep cool when brought into contact with the sympathy and love, or the aversion, which men inspire in me. I get excited and lose my head with excessive ease, and under the influence of anger I speak out the first word that comes into my mind, however dangerous it is. Moreover, I have the misfortune of always seeing the comic side of things, and I have not sufficient strength of mind to repress myself and to refrain from saying what I think. Politicians, when they are not knaves worthy of jail, seem to me, with a few honorable exceptions, a herd of vulgar, ignorant men who have taken up this occupation as the easiest and most lucrative; many of them village intriguers who come to repeat in Congress the same trickeries which they have been practising in the Ayuntamiento[39] or the Diputación;[40] others, men who have failed in literature, the sciences, and the arts, and not getting there the notoriety that they crave, seek it in the more accessible field of politics: a young man whose drama has been hissed off the stage; another, who has tried five or six times in vain to get a professorship; another, who has written various books that remain virgins and martyrs on the publishers' shelves,—these are the ones who, making their way into the Hall of Congress, where no one is judged by his merits, and rallying under the standard of some personage who began as they did, climb to lofty destinies, and as time goes on, come to regulate the affairs of the nation.... But I have become too serious," he added, lowering his voice and smiling. "The principal argument that I bring up against dedicating myself to political life,—I will tell it to you as a secret,—is, that I detest it; I detest it from the bottom of my heart. Nevertheless, as I am threatened with ruin, I am determined to enter it to restore my fortunes, which I was foolish enough to compromise."
Brutandor looked at him with wide-opened eyes: any one can imagine, knowing the tendency of his mind, that Miguel spoke a language entirely incomprehensible to him.
When he ended, the newly elected deputy imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders and puckered his mouth into that look very common to him, one that made it hard to tell whether it meant indifference or disdain or surprise or resignation. Miguel used to maintain that his friend Mendoza was able to understand only eleven things in this world: when anything distinct from the eleven was said, instead of answering, he made the face spoken of, and gave it to be understood that there the matter ended.
"Well," said he, noticing that face, "to do this you must introduce me to the government ministry."
"I will introduce you to the President of the Council. I am better acquainted with him than with Escalante."
"I am glad of that, for Escalante is not congenial to me, and at all events I don't know the President. Do you want to go this afternoon to the Presidency?"
Mendoza looked at him in amazement.
"But don't you know that I am going to speak to-day in Congress?"
"Forgive me, dear fellow; I don't know a single word about it. And what are you going to speak about?"
"About tariff reform. It is the first speech that I shall have made. Hitherto I have only put inquiries."
"Don't be so modest, Perico; I happen to know that you have presented a report concerning the citizens of Valdeorras, without flinching or anything coming of it."
"Don't you laugh; the danger to-day is very serious."
"Terrible!... Especially for the taxes.... And when are you to be married?"
Mendoza looked down and flushed.
"On the fifteenth."
"I am delighted that you are entering into the good path," said Miguel, noticing Mendoza's mortification, and generously trying to spare him.
"Come, get up, man; it is already almost eleven o'clock."
"You will breakfast with me, won't you?"
"My dear fellow, you must know that to-day is an exceptional day for me!"
"Of course I know it; but then we will go together to Congress; and perhaps, if the session is over in time, we might go to the presidency."
This last suggestion pleased Miguel, because he saw clearly that his thirty thousand duros depended on the influence that he might gain over. After thinking a little, he said:—
"Very well; I will send a message to my wife, so that she will not be worried."
He sat down at Mendoza's table, while the latter was dressing, and dashed off a few lines to Maximina. While writing them, he could not help saying in a tone of grief:—
"Strange circumstances that oblige me to leave my wife alone on the day after she has presented me with a son! Nevertheless, it is for her and for him that I do it. If I were a bachelor, it would not make much difference if I were ruined."
After he was dressed, and before they went down into the dining-room, Mendoza showed his friend the jewels that he was going to present to his "future." They were magnificent and in the latest style. Miguel praised them as they deserved, at the same time wondering where Perico had got the money to buy them; and though he was much tempted to ask him, he had the delicacy not to do so.
Then they went down to a private room on the entresol floor, where Brutandor was in the habit of breakfasting alone. The waiter served them a remarkably fine breakfast, among other things, Burgundy and champagne frappé for dessert.
"This is extravagant, Perico," he said. "The next time I shall forbid your treating me in such style."
"The señorito always breakfasts like this," said the waiter, smiling with evident satisfaction.
"Holá!" exclaimed Miguel, in surprise. "Who could have believed, Perico, that those heavy leaders that you used to write in La Independencia would have been so quickly coined into oysters, fillets of veal, and Burgundy!"
Brutandor dropped his head, and there are reasons for belief that the precursory symptoms of a smile appeared in his face. However, if any one should be inclined to deny it, there would not fail to be arguments in support of such an opinion. Mendoza's smiles always gave room for dispute.
After breakfast they betook themselves to Congress, not, however, without the Amphitryon first hurrying up to his room, and bringing down a package of documents, which proved to be notes for his speech.
"María Santísima!" cried Miguel. "How calm and undisturbed are the poor deputies who at this moment are without a thought of the coming earthquake!"
They arrived in altogether too good season. There were but few people in the salón and the lobbies. Mendoza went to join a group of personages, grave and solemn like himself, and began to talk with them. When one spoke, the others maintained a courteous silence; there might be some question, however, whether they listened very attentively, but there was no room for doubt that each one listened to himself with perfect delight. Miguel joined a group of journalists where tumultuous gayety reigned.
When it was time for the session to begin, he went with them to the reporters' gallery, which in a short time was crowded. Almost all the faces to be seen there were young, and such a babel of voices and disorder constantly prevailed there that it was difficult to hear.
In vain the ushers, with a familiarity that anywhere else would have been called insolence, warned and even threatened them; the reporters paid no attention to their menaces, and when they deigned to listen, it was merely to reply with some bloodthirsty witticism: if the usher at last became really angry, there was sure to be some one who would take the wind out of his sails by throwing his arms around his neck, and promising him promotion "as soon as he came to be minister."
Some amused themselves by sharpening pencils; others, by cutting up paper into pads; others drew out from between vest and shirt enormous writing-tablets: one would think that it was an orchestra beginning to tune up. Settling themselves into absurd attitudes, they all talked, shouted, laughed, fired repartees at each other, and made witty remarks about the deputies who were now coming into the large and elegant salón, and casting sheep's-eyes at them, or rather the eyes of dying lambs asking mercy. As a general thing, these were the rural members. Those who lived in Madrid always had some acquaintances among the journalists, and to these they made signs and winks from below, and sometimes sent caramels, to which the reporters would respond with rhymed notes.
"Look here, my dear; do you know what uniform the sub-governors are going to wear?"
"The sub-governors won't have anything else than a sub-uniform," replied a sufficiently ill-favored reporter named Inza. This same Inza, who was in one corner arranging his pad, shortly after remarked:—
"Ah, here comes Alonso Ramírez enveloped in the skins of his clients."
The famous lawyer just at that moment came in, wearing a magnificent overcoat trimmed with fur.
This jest has since that time been credited to a politician by his friends, and they would be quite capable of claiming that he wrote the Holy Bible, if they felt like it.
Keen sallies passed from one to another in loud tones, and caused hearty laughter, and stimulated the victim to sharpen his wits so as to reply with some other joke still more piquante. Much talent and still more jollity were wasted in that incommodious gallery.
"Do you know, Juanito, that you are losing your wits?" cried one young man to another.
"What can I do about it, man; for a week ago the chief sent me to the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences?"
From time to time hot disputes came up on subjects most absurd or foreign to the profession of the disputant; for instance, about the method of loading needle-guns or driving carriages.
And they would gabble and get angry until the ushers compelled them to stop, or some opportune joke from a comrade would bring them to their senses.
The President mounted his lofty seat; instantly he was surrounded by a group of deputies, to whom he began with paternal solicitude to offer an abundant supply of caramels.
These caramels, which at that time did not cost the State more than five hundred duros a day, are an institution, the history of which has unfortunately been very much neglected. Nothing more useful can be imagined than to study the vicissitudes through which it has passed, the beneficent influence which these sweetmeats have exercised on the government of our people, and the elements of progress which they have carried with them. Its whole history might be compassed in three small volumes of easy and agreeable reading.
When they were through, or when the President no longer cared to give any more, the deputies went to their seats, and the session was opened. The first person to get the floor was an ancient republican of pale complexion, dull eyes, and a great shock of hair which made him look like the images in our churches. He got up to speak of an insurrection that had been started in Cadiz. The subject was of keen interest, and there was a great curiosity in Congress to hear this gentleman's remarks, as he was supposed to be one of the promoters of the revolution. He began in these words, or to the same effect:—
"In the primitive times of history man wandered naked through the forests, supporting life with the fruit of trees, and the milk and flesh of animals which he hunted. One day he saw an animal like himself passing through the woods. He flung his lasso and caught it. It proved to be—a woman. Hence the family, señores diputados...."
He went on giving a complete though succinct sketch of universal history, and explained to the minutest details the theories of the social contract. He quoted numerous texts from the wise men of ancient and modern times in support of his own theories. Attention was attracted above all by one proposition of bold originality, and as it was received with murmurs by the assembly, the deputy exclaimed:—
"What! does this surprise you? But it is not I that say it. Brígida says it."
"Who is Brígida?" asked a journalistic tyro.
"His housekeeper," replied another, without looking up.
"Why! what a ridiculous thing to quote his housekeeper here!" exclaimed the first.
The deputies received with renewed murmurs the name of the author of the quotation.
"Brígida says it," cried the orator with all the force of his lungs.
Louder and longer murmurs. When quiet was restored, he said in a grave and solemn tone:—
"Santa Brígida says so!"
"Ahaaaaaa!" replied the assembly.
The last five minutes were devoted to the events in Cadiz, and that was to say that it was all the fault of the government.
It seems logical to report that the orator was removed from there in a cage and taken to a mad-house. Nothing of the sort happened, however: the minister replied in all formality, and combated his quotations and theories with other quotations and other theories. At that period all addresses began with Adam and no one was surprised at it.
Next, coming to the order of the day, it was the turn of tariff reform, and Mendoza was granted the floor. He, having spread out on his desk his earthquake of notes, coughing three or four times, lifting up his hands an equal number, began his great oration.
His voice was well modulated, clear, and mellow; his tone grave and high-sounding; his gestures noble and refined. Neither Demosthenes, nor Cicero, nor Mirabeau were blessed with such an effective presence and such an elegant round of attitudes as our friend Brutandor.
But the trouble was that the ideas that proceeded from his mouth did not correspond in the least with such attitudes. That wrathful gesture, that lowering and raising of the voice, and those short but quick steps in front of his desk, were very appropriate to accompany the celebrated "Tell your master that only by the force of bayonets will we be taken from this spot," or the Quousque tandem Catilina; but for saying that the annual consumption of cotton in England in 1767 was 4,000,000 pounds, and that in 1867 it was more than 1,400,000,000 pounds; that the number of workmen engaged there in the manufacture of cotton is 500,000, and 4,000,000 the persons whose living depends on this industry; that the value of the paper manufactured in 1835 was 80,000,000 pounds and in 1860 exceeded 223,000,000; that the manufactories of the said product at the present time numbered 394; that in France its production exceeded 25,000,000 kilograms, etc.,—they did not seem so appropriate. His whole discourse was reduced to this: quantities, dates, facts. The deputies, with more or less dissimulation, began to desert the salon, one after the other.
"This orator is an air-pump," said one reporter. "At this rate there will soon be a perfect vacuum."
The jokes and flings in the press-gallery became general. Miguel, who knew what he had to expect from his friend's genius, listened with disgust to their raillery of him: he was anxious, and somewhat inclined to cut short their jests peremptorily; but, as in that tribunal of Liberty, comment on the speeches was traditional, he did his best to restrain himself. The best thing that occurred to him, in order to avoid being compromised, was to make a hurried visit home and find out how his wife was. When he returned, the orator was still speaking.
"Now, Congress is about to see the most curious thing of all," said the worthy Brutandor.
And, on turning round to gather up from his desk the papers on which it was written, he showed the seat of his trousers! But no one noticed this graceful quid pro quo except Miguel and a shorthand reporter, who could not help laughing.
The joking continued among the reporters; the observations, however, were made more with the purpose of causing a laugh than of hurting the feelings of the orator, whom almost all knew or were intimate with. Only one, the editor of a Carlist daily, from time to time got off serious criticisms in bad taste, as though he had some personal ill-will against Mendoza. Miguel had already looked at this man two or three times in an aggressive manner, without the other taking any notice of it. At last, accosting him, Miguel said:—
"See here, friend; I am not surprised that the numbers of El Universo are so stupid! You evidently take pains to waste all your wit here."
"What you just said to me seems to me an intentional insult, sir!"
"Perhaps."
"You will immediately give me an apology," said the journalist, very much disturbed.
"No; I should much prefer to give you some unpleasantness by and by," replied Miguel, with a smile.
Then the editor of El Universo took his hat and went out in great indignation. In a short time, two Catholic, deputies made their appearance in the gallery, asking for Miguel.
"You have come to ask me to make an apology, have you? Then I tell you that I shall not make one. Come to an understanding with these two friends of mine."
And he introduced those whom he had selected. The Catholic editor's seconds had not come so primed for a bellicose decision: after consulting a few moments with Miguel's, they went down to ask further instructions of their principal; then returned in a short time with the calumet of peace in their hands, saying that 'their friend's religious principles did not allow him to settle insults with weapons.'
On hearing this, there was an explosion of laughter in the gallery.
"Then, if his religious principles do not allow him to fight," said Miguel, irritated, "there was no reason for him to choose seconds. But it seems as if this gentleman wished to try his fortune."
At last, Mendoza finished his oration with three deputies in the hall, one of them snoring. This, however, did not prevent the papers on the following day declaring that he was a man "most skilled in financial matters."
When Miguel went to congratulate him, he was sweating copiously but calm and serene as a god, surrounded by all the members of the committee of Estimates.
They left Congress together, and went for refreshments to the Café de la Iberia. After chatting there for some time, Miguel doing most of the talking (for we know of old that Mendoza was not the man to waste his breath foolishly), the latter got up, saying:—
"Well, Miguelito, excuse me if I leave you; I have a few things to attend to."
Rivera's eyes expressed surprise and indignation.
"Your glory has spoiled your memory, Perico. Hadn't we agreed to see the President after the session?"
"That is a fact: I had forgotten," replied Mendoza, without being able to repress a motion of vexation and disgust. "I don't know as this is—it is pretty near dinner time...."
Miguel, who had not failed to notice his gesture, said with characteristic impetuosity:—
"Look here, do you imagine that I lamentably wasted two hours hearing you quote data to be found in any statistical annual merely for the pleasure of doing so?... I never believed that your egotism was carried to such a degree. You see me within a hand's-breadth of ruin, for your sake, only for your sake, and instead of using all your powers to save me, in doing which you would be merely fulfilling your duty, you manifest Olympian indifference; you aren't even willing to put yourself out to go with me from here to the Presidency. That is unworthy, shameful! I have excused many things in my life, Perico; but this goes beyond bounds."
Rivera, in saying these words, trembled with indignation.
"Don't be so explosive man! why, I have not yet refused to go with you to the Presidency, or anywhere else," said Mendoza, laying his hand on his shoulder, while his lips were curved by that humble smile which Miguel compared to that of "a Newfoundland dog." "Come on! let us go this very moment to the Presidency!"
"Come on, then," said Rivera dryly, getting up.
After going a few steps his vexation subsided.
When they reached there, the President had not yet come in. Mendoza, as a deputy, made his way immediately into the office, and there they both waited, taking a comfortable seat on a sofa while the throng of office-hunters were spoiling in the anteroom. It was not long before there was the sound of a carriage under the porte cochère: instantly all the bells in the house began to jingle madly.
"Here comes the President," said Mendoza.
Indeed, in a few seconds he came into the office, accompanied by a number of deputies. Seeing Mendoza, he greeted him in the free and easy tone with which he greeted the friends who came every day.
"Well worked up, my dear Mendoza, well worked up. It has produced a very good effect."
He alluded to the speech.
Mendoza, instead of being embarrassed by the greatness of the personage before whom he stood, replied in the same familiar and fluent tone. This self-possession did not fail to impress Miguel; for he, being more accustomed to social intercourse, could not help feeling some emotion of respect before the man who held the reins of government.
The President was about fifty years old: he was fair and pale, with regular, and not unpleasing, features; the only thing that disfigured his face was a row of huge teeth, which were apt to be uncovered when he smiled; and this he did frequently, not to say incessantly.
"I present my friend, Miguel Rivera, who is now the actual editor of La Independencia."
"I have heard of this gentleman. I am very, very glad to make your acquaintance, Señor Rivera," said the President, shaking hands with exceeding amiability. "You will excuse me a moment, will you not?" he added, touching them both on the shoulder; "I have to speak a few words with these gentlemen.... I will be with you in an instant."
The instant was about half an hour. Miguel had been growing impatient. But the President's courteous reception made him feel better, and inclined him to pardon the delay.
"There," said he, after taking leave of the other gentlemen, "now I am at your service. What can I do for you, friend Mendoza?"
"I wanted to know if you have come to any decision about the district of Serín?"
"What district is that: the one left by General Ríos?" he asked, for a moment ceasing to smile, and fixing his eyes on the window.
"Yes, sir."
"We have not as yet given any thought to the vacant districts. The second elections will not take place for two months at least."
"My friend Rivera, here, has conceived the idea of presenting himself for that district in case the government should favor it."
"There is some little time yet; still you would do well to begin making your arrangements.... But, friend Mendoza, you are a 'well of science'!" he added, jocularly, not making it at all evident whether he spoke ironically or not. "Ah! that was a meaty discourse that you gave us this afternoon!"
Brutandor inclined his head, and did his best to smile.
"I am not going to be ceremonious with you, gentlemen, for you are friends. Come and take dinner with me, and then we can talk with greater comfort and ease."
And he showed them into a private room where there was a table spread. Neither Mendoza nor Miguel accepted his invitation, but the latter appreciated this kindly hospitality.
The President began his meal, more than once deploring that his friends would not join him; he kept growing more and more expansive and genial with Mendoza, and he overwhelmed Miguel with refined and delicate attentions, now speaking in the terms of warmest eulogy of his father, whom he had known, and now calling to mind some good article in La Independencia; again, asking with lively interest into the details of his life: if he were married, and how long since? where had he studied? what was he doing? etc., etc. He related to them various lively anecdotes, and made some droll sketches of some dead politicians whom he had known in times gone by; of those who were alive he always spoke with sufficient consideration, even though they were in the opposition. Suddenly interrupting himself, he asked:—
"Isn't it true, Señor Rivera, that the President of the Council is a trifle impudent?"
"It used to be said that Richelieu also was," replied Miguel, with a bow.
"I feel that I have his defects, and not his qualities. You can imagine how I envy those reserved, polite, prudent men ... like our friend Mendoza here!"
Again it was difficult to tell whether the head of the government were speaking seriously.
"I do not; it would be depriving myself of one of the greatest pleasures of life."
"I agree with you; but it costs the most of all."
And in this connection he related several cases where by frankly saying what he thought, it had caused him serious losses. His conversation was gay, insinuating, without the least snobbishness; his fault lay, on the contrary, in excessive familiarity.
When he had finished eating, he courteously offered cigars, and after lighting one and leaning back in his chair, he asked Rivera:—
"So, then, you wish to be deputy for Serín?"
"If you have no opposition to it...."
"I? Why should I have any opposition to it? It is sufficient that you are Brigadier Rivera's son and Mendoza's friend. Besides, no election could be more suitable than yours. You are a young man of talent, as has already been proved; you belong to the democratic wing of the party, and that composes a very respectable contingent in it; you have an independent fortune ... on men like you the heads of the government ought to have great reliance, and ought to win them over at all hazards. We like young men of intelligence, and with a future ahead of them; rising stars! As for those that are declining, let them have a feather-bed to rest in! That is public life."
He remained a few moments pensive; puffed at his cigar, and added:—
"I am not acquainted with this district of Serín. Do you know how it is situated, Mendoza?"
"My impression is that government has absolute control of it. The general had certainly no opposition."
"Very good; but you must remember that the general is a figure of the first magnitude in politics, and that his name would be sufficient to scare off all opposition."
"Nevertheless, I believe that the district, with such little help as the government may afford, is secure."
"Really?"
"Yes, sir."
"And is the general agreeable to Señor Rivera's candidacy?"
"Certainly he is; they are old friends. I will stand guarantee for him."
"Well, if that is so," said the President, rising and laying one hand on Miguel's shoulder; "count yourself as deputy."
"Many thanks, Señor Presidente!"
"Don't mention it. What other wish could I have than that all the deputies of the majority were like you!... Don't fail to come and talk things over with me soon. Though the elections will be postponed a little, it will be necessary for you to write to the district, and through the general's mediation come into relationship with some person of influence there. Don't send out any manifesto. When the occasion arrives, we will write to the governor. Adiós, señores; I am so glad to have made your acquaintance! You must feel assured that I am at your service. Do not forget me, and be sure to come and see me some time!"
Miguel departed, enthusiastic over his interview. When he was in the street, he exclaimed:—
"But how cordial the President is! Oftentimes one finds a mere clerk more puffed up in his office! Still he lets one see the superiority of persons when it is legitimate. I am not surprised that he has so many friends, and so firm ones.... How easy it is for a man high in rank to win friends! Now, here I am! He gives me merely a natural and kindly welcome, and says a few courteous phrases, and I am ready to die for him!"
"You must not neglect to write to the general immediately," said Mendoza, gravely.
"You are a man of ice, Perico! For you there are no friendships nor hatreds; no men are congenial or antipathetic. From all you take what you need, and go your way.... Perhaps you are right."
XVIII.
"You aren't vexed with me, Maximina, are you? The idea of leaving you alone all day!" he said, as he came to his wife's bed.
"Pshaw! If you did so, it must have been for some good reason," replied she, kissing the hand which was smoothing her cheek.
On the next day they received a call from Aunt Martina and her daughter Serafina. The worthy lady had grown visibly more feeble. 'Such a life she led with her husband! Don Bernardo kept growing more and more crazy with his foolish jealousies!' As she told what went on at home, she wept aloud.
"After forty years of married life, how could I possibly be unfaithful to your uncle, Miguel? Don't you think that I have proved that I am virtuous? And if I had to fall, moreover, it would not be with a carcamal[41] who smells of drugs for a mile! Isn't that so? You understand!..."
Miguel nodded assent, with difficulty repressing a smile, for it was as good as a play to find his aunt imagining that any young man would flirt with her.
"I am an honest woman.... Serafina, don't come in here; take the baby into the dining-room," she said, interrupting herself on seeing her daughter come into the bedroom with the sweet little thing in her arms.
"I have been all my life long. Never even in thought have I been untrue to my husband. In return for this, he puts me to shame before the servants, treating me little less than if I were a public woman. I cannot longer endure this martyrdom, Miguel. I am dying, dying daily. The other day he made a perfect scandal because he found the end of a cigar in my room. As neither Vicente nor Carlos smoke, he took it for granted that Hojeda had been there; he even went so far as to insist that it was a cigar such as the apothecary smokes, although he always smokes cigarettes! It made me faint away; they had to call the doctor. Finally, in the night, a little fifteen-year-old servant boy whom we have, seeing the serious trouble there was in the house, confessed to the maid that it was he who had left the cigar-end there, and he went to tell your Uncle Bernardo. Then, though he instantly dismissed him, he did not remain calm. The servants don't stay with us more than a fortnight; he imagines that they are all the apothecary's pimps.... Day before yesterday the newsboy came along and handed me the paper as I happened to be walking along the corridor. My husband sees it, takes it into his head that this too is an emissary, and dashes out of the window. Simply because Hojeda passed by a little while before! I can't tell all that goes on; it is madness, a catastrophe! If it were not for Vicente, I would blow my brains out with a revolver.... I cannot go out without having my daughter with me, and then leaving on a piece of paper where I am going.... He has ordered all the mattresses in the house to be ripped open, so as to find some of the letters which he says that I have hidden.... Finally,—but do you want to hear more? He has sent and had an iron grating put in the fireplace, for he has an idea that Hojeda comes in that way...."
"Ave María! How crazy poor uncle must be!" exclaimed Miguel.
"Don't you believe it; he speaks as reasonably as you or I, and his memory is as good as ever."
"Aunt, phrenopathy is not your strong point. Madmen have made progress like every one else in this world. Nowadays, they discuss and talk like all the rest of us. To distinguish an insane person from one in his senses you must depend upon a specialist; consequently, you must not meddle in things that you don't understand; however, my uncle is certainly showing symptoms that seem very suspicious, even to the ordinary intelligence."
"Sane or insane, I want to separate from him, for my life is a hell. But when once this subject came up, he became frantic, declaring that I wanted a divorce so as to marry my lover, and that he would empty his six-shooter into me if I did any such thing...."
"Poor aunt!" said Maximina, with tears in her eyes.
"How does my life seem to you?... But it is not this alone. I have still another cause for tribulation. Eulalia's little maid is almost blind!"
"What of?" asked the young mother.
"What do you suppose, child? Of her eyes, of course!"
"No; I meant of what disease!"
"Ah! I don't know what name the doctor gives it. Then, besides, Encarnación the maid, who you must know has been my hands and feet, got married last Monday. You can't imagine the state of the house since she left us! It is a republic, children! I can't be in half a dozen places at once. For a dozen years I have depended wholly on her.... She had the keys to the linen closet; she kept account of the washing; she took out the chocolate and the garbanzos[42]; she looked out for the wine-closet when the wines were getting low; she ironed Carlos' and Enrique's shirts (for Vicente sends his out to be done up). Finally, I hardly had to trouble myself about what the servants got to eat, she had them so under her control.... Now, whom can I put into the house? Whom could I put in her place, the service being so turned topsy-turvy? Thursday the lackey came to me saying that Modesta was not willing to mend the sleeve of his livery-coat, which he had torn...."
"And Enrique? How about him?" asked Miguel, fearing that his aunt, in talking about the servants, would never finish, as was her custom.
"That is another thing! Bent on marrying the chula! There is no way of getting it out of his head. His father will not hear his name mentioned, and has already declared that, if he continues his relationship with her, he will send him out of the house. Vicente and Eulalia are also just as set against him. The one who 'pays for all the broken glass in the house' is myself, because I sympathize with him; don't you see?"
"Yes; Enrique has always been your favorite!"
"The whole family have always declared this to be the case, but it is not true; as you see, he is the least favored.... On the other hand, he treats me worse than a shoe!"
The entrance of Serafina with the baby again interrupted the conversation; behind her came all the maids, evincing a lively excitement:
"What is the matter?"
"Why! the baby smiled!" said Serafina.
"Smiled! He smiled, as sure as there is a God in heaven, señorita," said one of the maids, adding her testimony.
"Go along with you! you are all crazy!" said Doña Martina. "Why, he is only two days old!"
"It cannot be," insisted Maximina, although she flushed with joy at the thought.
"But he did; he did!" exclaimed all the servants.
"This is the way it happened, señorita," said one maid, scarcely able to get her breath. "The Señorita Serafina was this way with the baby; do you see? And I looked and took hold of him by the shoulder, do you see? and lifted him up, and began to move him up and down, and to say: 'Little chicken![43] rosebud! pink! do you want to be called Miguelito, like your papa?' The baby didn't do anything. 'Do you want to be called Enriquito like your uncle?' He didn't do anything this time either. 'Do you want to be called Serafín after your aunt?' And then he opened his eyes just a wee bit, and made up a little mouth with his lips. Oh, so cunning!"
Maximina smiled as though she had been listening to a revelation from heaven. She, and her aunt also, were instantly convinced, but Miguel still doubted.
"When it comes to the smiling of infants not more than fifty-seven hours old," said Miguel, "I must confess to an unyielding scepticism. I am like Saint Thomas: seeing is believing."
"But he did smile, Miguel. Don't you have any doubt of it; I assure you he did, ..." said Serafina.
"You do not offer me sufficient guarantees of impartiality."
"Very good! then he is going to do it again; now you shall see for yourself."
Serafina took the child and lifted him above her head, with great decision, at the same time asking him if he wanted to be called Serafín; to which question the child did not find it expedient to reply, perhaps from an excess of diplomacy, because it would not have been strange if the name had seemed absurd to him.
Maximina, meantime, hung on his lips as though the child were passing through a college examination.
"You try it, Plácida," said she, trying to hide her affliction.
Plácida stepped out of the group like one of the "artists" of Price's circus, coming forth to perform his great feat. She lifted the child with surprising skill, swung him from north to south, then from east to west, and with impetuous voice put the sacred questions: "Little chicken, sweetie! rosebud! pink! do you want to be called Miguelito, like your papa? Do you want to be called Enriquito like your uncle? Do you want to be called Serafín after your aunt?"
A lugubrious silence followed these words. All eyes were fastened on the young candidate, who, instead of showing a liking for any of the names proposed, made it very clear, though in an inarticulate way, that he could see no reason why, for a mere question of names, these hypochondriacs should bother him so much.
"Do you see?" said Miguel.
"The reason is, he isn't in humor for laughing," protested Maximina, very much dissatisfied. "You won't laugh either when you are told to! Besides, he must be hungry by this time. Give him to me! Give him to me! Joy of my life! Sweetheart mine!"
And the child-mother snuggled her little son under the sheets, and put him to her breast.
On the third day baptism took place. With the melancholy resignation usually manifested by mothers in such circumstances, Maximina let them carry her baby away.
"He is a Christian already, señorita," said the maid, taking possession of him.
The young mother kissed him fondly, and pressed him to her heart, saying, in a whisper, "Thou shan't be taken from me again, child of my bosom!"
On the fifth day she was sitting up. In a week she was about the house; in a fortnight she was out of doors as usual. Enrique and Julita were the child's god-parents, and he was named after the former.
The pleasure which Miguel found in all these things was embittered by the serious danger threatening his fortune. All the time this thought haunted him to such a degree that it was a great effort for him to seem happy in his wife's presence.
He wrote to the general, but he replied in such an ambiguous and suspicious manner that it left no room for doubt that in this quarter no help was to be expected. From that time he deliberately made up his mind that his salvation depended on his election to Congress, in gaining influence in the majority and with the ministers, and in making the best of it at a given moment by getting from the reserve funds the money which he had compromised.
But Eguiburu had already made him three or four more calls, and was pressing him to guarantee the rest of the money; finally, after many circumlocutions and periphrases, he began to threaten him with a legal summons. Then he saw that it was necessary to risk the whole for the whole. If he did not take the additional guarantee his ruin was sure; Eguiburu would sell his houses by auction, and though some money would remain, as they were worth more than the amount of the debt, it would not be very much. On the other hand, it would bring about a scandal; everybody would look upon him as a ruined man, if not a swindler, and would turn their backs on him; he knew the world well enough to see that clearly. He would have to give up all thoughts of his election: poverty hath everywhere an evil savor.
He finally decided to endorse the I. O. U. of the twelve thousand duros, and he made an appointment with his creditor for the business. With emotion natural to one who is going to burn his ships, he presented himself one afternoon at Eguiburu's house. He was in his office talking with two individuals. Miguel wanted to wait until these had gone before he introduced his business; but the money lender immediately began to speak aloud, and as he noticed that the young man kept giving anxious glances at the intruders, and showed some reserve in replying, he said:—
"You can talk with perfect freedom; these gentlemen are friends, and our affairs are nothing to them."
Miguel immediately perceived what this meant.
"This miserable wretch is afraid that I shall try to get out of it by declaring my name a forgery, and has brought a couple of witnesses."
With this thought his pride revolted; he could have wished that he were not burdened with a family, so as to fling the thirty thousand duros through the window, at the same time slap this vile wretch in the face. He with difficulty restrained himself, and began to discuss the business with the fierce money lender, whose voice kept growing louder and louder as he brought to light all that had gone before. Miguel answered his questions curtly. Finally, when he had satisfied him on them, and was about to sign his name to the I. O. U., the money lender said:—
"Here a difficulty arises, friend Rivera. It is a painful matter for me to mention to you because it will be a hard thing for you; but there is no other way out of it. Above and beyond the 246,000 reals which I have furnished for the support of the paper, I have also accommodated now the general, now Señor Mendoza, now the business manager of the daily, with some considerable funds amounting to 111,000 reals.... Here are the receipts. In them it is stipulated that these various sums were intended for the aid of the emigrados, though really they were for the intrigues of the revolutionists.... As you will easily understand, I do not intend to lose this money...."
"And you expect me to pay that also, do you?"
"I might exact it of the general and Señor Mendoza, who have signed the receipts; but it would cost me the trouble of lawsuits...."
"Yes, yes, it would be better for me to guarantee also these five thousand duros," said Miguel, in a sarcastic tone, "and thus free you and them from a little trouble."
"Señor de Rivera, I feel that I am causing you a great deal of annoyance...."
"Nonsense! you feel nothing of the sort; when one has a man by the throat he ought to squeeze him.... Let me see! where is the I. O. U.? Put on the other too."
Eguiburu, flushed with triumph, spread out a paper, and Rivera endorsed it with a nervous hand. His face was changed, and his voice sounded strange; but he preserved a serious and cool mien.
"Have you not added the item of the additional 111,000 reals?" asked Miguel, dryly.
"I am going to immediately," replied the banker, without being able to hide a certain confusion, which showed that he had not yet entirely lost his shame.
When he had filled it out, Miguel endorsed it, flung down his pen with a haughty gesture, and bade him farewell, bending his head.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen."
He left the room without shaking hands with any one.
His cheeks were on fire when he found himself in the street. The first thing that he did was to go to the editorial rooms of La Independencia, and announce to the editors and employés that the paper was to cease publication. He wrote a valedictory article, and left affairs half settled. On the days that followed everything was completely cleared up.
La Independencia being dead, his mind was more at ease, and he could devote himself entirely to "work for his election." On this he placed all his hope; if he entered Congress, he felt that he should soon become known among the majority; he was a ready speaker; he was accustomed to debate; finally, he was gifted with better judgment than most of those who at this time represented the country. Consequently, he devoted himself with ardor to asking recommendations, not only at first, but even at second, third, and fourth hand; he wrote numerous letters, and made various calls. Nevertheless, he was careful not to call upon the President very soon; he had sufficient cunning or tact to understand that he ought not to show too much eagerness, lest he should be despised; the best way was to work for himself first, and then remind the minister of his word.
Mendoza did not approve of the death of La Independencia.
"That was a bad move, Miguel; it may cost you dear," said he, with a gesture of disgust.
"What would you have," replied Miguel impetuously, "that I should meet out of my pocket all the expenses, besides carrying the bond that I have given?"
"Even though you had made a sacrifice, it would have been wise if you had kept up the daily at least till after the election."
Miguel tried still to maintain the opposite; but at bottom he saw instantly that his friend was right, and that he had acted rashly.
A month or more having passed since his first visit to the President, he determined to make a second. He went at the time at which he was usually in his office. The usher informed him that his excellency was very much engaged in talking with a committee of Catalanian deputies, and had given orders that absolutely no one should be permitted to enter.
"I must speak with him; he himself invited me to come here."
The door-keeper looked at him with that indifferent and weary expression, really at bottom full of scorn, peculiar to those who constantly listen to the same things, and know that they are telling lies.
"If you wish to wait, you can sit down." Which was equivalent to saying: "What a double fool you are, friend! Do you suppose that I care to hear absurdities?"
Miguel flushed, and went and sat down on a sofa in the anteroom, where there were six or seven other persons waiting.
In a short time a gentleman in an overcoat came in very pompously; the door-keeper made a reverent bow before him, and opened the screen of the presidential chamber. It was evident that the order "to let absolutely no one in" was the door-keeper's manufacture.
Miguel jumped up angrily, and said, opening his card-case:—
"Have the goodness to take this card to the President."
"I cannot, caballero; I have orders...."
"I insist upon it that you carry this card to the President," he repeated in a louder voice, and with an energetic accent that had some effect upon the usher, who finally took it, though still grumbling, and entered the room.
"You will please wait an instant, caballero," said the man, coming out.
He waited an hour and a half; but he stayed, bent upon speaking with the chief of government, and neither the usher's insulting glances nor his own impatience, which was great, sufficed to make him give up his design.
At last the screen was opened, and out came a group of deputies, and among them the President with his hat on, and every appearance of being about to leave the building.
"Ah! Señor Rivera," he said, as he caught sight of him. "Excuse me ... I have so many things on my mind ... would you like to go back with me to the office."
"It is not worth while," said Miguel, taking the hint that this would be a bore to the grandee. The President took him familiarly by the lappet of his coat, and drew him to the bay-window.
"You have come to speak with me about the district, eh? How are things going with you?"
"Pretty well, I think. So far I believe that I have no opponent."
"I was going to speak of that very thing. I was thinking of writing you to come here. I am very glad that you have anticipated me. Yesterday I was told that there was an effort making to put in Corrales for that district."
"Who? The ex-minister of the moderate wing?"
"The same. I do not believe that he has any showing there, nor that the government needs to exert great pressure to defeat him, but it is well to be on the safe side. For nothing in the world would I have the most genuine representative and one of the most redoubtable advocates of moderatism, manage to make his unwelcome way into our house. For the district of Serín is our house, since it has elected Ríos, who was an important factor in the revolution. Have you been doing much work?"
"A good deal."
"Very well! then one of these days suppose you bring to me all the data which you have collected, the names of the alcaldes[44] who are opposed to us, and those of the people whom the government can influence. Meantime, don't give up for a moment. Get hold of the friends who gave the general his election; but don't put much reliance on promises; try to keep them attached to you in some way, either by offers or threats. Let us leave it that you will bring me the data, shan't we? Adiós, Rivera. Don't forget the road to this house."
He took his leave with a cordial pressure of the hand. Miguel, just as before, felt perfectly satisfied. The chief of government had a special tact for making his discourtesies forgiven, a frank and affectionate manner which immediately captivated whoever came near him.
A fortnight passed before he saw him again; for the two times that he went there, he was told that his excellency could not receive him as he was busy with the sub-secretary.
"Holá! Rivera, I know that you have been here twice already; I felt it to the bottom of my heart that I could not see you. At all events, the matter has not been in a pressing hurry hitherto. Let us see! Sit down. How do you find the district? Has Corrales been giving you much to do?"
"Not much up to the present time."
"Indeed!" said the President, surprised. "Well, then; what I have heard is a very different story. I have been told that he is moving in a prodigious way: that the clergy are working for him decidedly, and that some of our friends, whom apparently Ríos has not been able or has not cared to serve, have gone over to him bag and baggage.... But it is possible that you are better informed."
"Señor Presidente, the letters that I have received from there say nothing of all this; on the other hand, all the general's friends assure me that, as he is agreeable to my candidacy and as it is supported by the government, it is impossible for a moment to doubt of our triumph."
"In spite of all that, it is proper that you should go there in person, talk with them, and watch the election. Those of us who have spent a few years in public life know that there is nothing certain."
"That is very good. When do you think that I ought to go there?"
"The sooner the better; but before you go, come here, so that I may give you some letters. You do not need one to the governor, for he has known for some time that you are the official candidate. Besides, I believe that you are acquainted...."
"Yes, sir; I knew him when he was editor of La Iberia."
XIX.
Now while Miguel was busy in this excitement and anxiety, through the fear of approaching ruin to his fortunes, another danger, a thousand times greater, was threatening him without his knowledge.
We have already seen what a strange liking for Maximina had been awakened in Don Alfonso Saavedra: it can be compared to nothing else than that of the wolf, of which the fable tells us, who, having in his power the whole flock of a rich man, went to devour the only lamb owned by a poor man.
As the Andalusian caballero was not a man to be readily defeated, or else because he almost always found women easy to conquer, or because his ostentatious figure, his fortune, and his arrogance made him bold toward those who resisted him, he remained deeply disgusted because of the scene at the party, where he had played a part so supremely ridiculous in his own eyes. The absolute lack of coquetry which was noticeable in Rivera's wife, was what mortified him most of all, since he could not even invent the illusion that the indifference with which she had received his gallantries was more or less fictitious.
To say that after this rebuff his ardor greatly increased, would be doing little honor to the penetration of my readers: every one knows that disdain is far from being the best palliative for love, and that, in the majority of the mad passions that we see in the world, self-love comes in with a respectable contingent.
Saavedra did not lose his wits, nor did he even make any false show of appearing foolish, like Don Quixote in Sierra Morena; but as a man of sagacity, accomplished in adventures of this sort, he determined not to lose again his self-possession, and to "establish the blockade" of the place according to the rules which his experience had laid down.
Quickly reading through Maximina's character, he divined that in her case there would be no use for that amiability stuffed with arrogance, that politeness imbued with disdain, which he had employed in winning his cousin Julia's love. This serene, serious, and humble nature could not be attacked on the side of vanity: he must aim at her affections. He proposed, therefore, to win her little by little; not in the guise of a rejected lover, which he well knew would be to lose forever her esteem, but as a sincere, affectionate, and helpful friend. He tried with all his power to dispel the suspicions which the conversation at the party might have left in the young wife's mind. He quickly discovered that the excitement under which she was at that time laboring had prevented her from noticing his attempt to flirt with her; and he was enabled at his leisure to carry out the plan of the campaign which he had designed.
He began gradually to make more and more frequent calls at their house, skilfully overcoming the antipathy which Miguel had not the power to dissemble. To accomplish this, he allowed him to notice a certain change in his behavior, in harmony with those ideas of peace, order, and propriety, which are characteristic of family life; he had some confidential conversations with him, in which he announced himself as a man who loathed a corrupt life, and was weary of the snaring pleasures of the world; in order to flatter his literary and scientific tastes, he borrowed certain books of him; and, after reading them, talked about them long and enthusiastically, which secretly much amused Miguel. Then, more than ever, he understood and did not cease to marvel at the supine ignorance of so-called "society men." Don Alfonso had never in his life read much besides French novels, and sometimes he asked questions that would have astonished any schoolboy.
"He is one of our most distinguished savages," said Miguel to his wife, speaking of this new taste for books.
With Maximina our Audalusian entered into long conversations about his travels, laying special stress on the domestic customs of other countries.
"Just think," he said (he never addressed Maximina with the familiar 'tu,' though he thus addressed Miguel), "in England they eat five times a day. In the morning they breakfast as they please; at nine or ten they have a meal of considerable formality; at one, another still more free and easy; at five or six they have dinner; and at bedtime also they have a bite of something."
Maximina, as a good housewife, was interested in these details, asked about the prices of provisions and of rents; and she was greatly surprised at the liberty given to the women in the way of going into the street alone, and even travelling.
"Come now, that is the great country for Maximina," said Miguel. "She is too modest to go alone to mass, and yet the church is only a step away."
The young wife smiled, in embarrassment.
"Well, now, yesterday I went with Juana to the Calle de Postas to buy some drawers."
"There you have a word that you could not speak in England before people."
"Madre! and when you buy them, what do you call for?"
"They speak it to the clerk as a confessional secret," suggested Miguel.
"Don't you believe him," replied Saavedra, laughing. "For those ladies' clerks in shops are not 'people.'"
Meanwhile, he was trying to get her interested in his own private affairs, asking her advice, and often following it.
"The truth is, that in respect of good advice I do not miss my mother. You take her place divinely, Maximina. I announce myself your adopted son, though I am old enough to be your father."
"But you are not as obedient as I should like."
"Only in one point, as you well know. In all the rest I obey blindly."
The point was marriage. Maximina did not cease to urge him to get married.
"Hitherto I have never found a woman who would satisfy me for a wife," he replied.
"Why don't you marry Julia?" she asked one day at random, with the ingenuous frankness characteristic of her.
Don Alfonso was a trifle confused.
"Julia is a good girl.... Very well educated ... she is talented ... she is pretty.... But see here! confidentially, do you think that I should be happy with Julia?"
"Why not?" demanded the young wife.
Saavedra kept silent a few minutes, remaining apparently lost in thought; then he said:—
"You will readily understand that as you are her sister-in-law, and I am her cousin, neither of us can with delicacy speak about her except in terms of praise, which she certainly deserves in many regards. But with you I have the courage to say one thing, and that is that we are not congenial. We are two...."
And Don Alfonso put his two index fingers end to end.
"Why, I supposed that you were fond of each other!"
"Yes, we are fond of each other, but ... between this and marriage there is a considerable distance.... I remind you that I have just spoken as though you were my mother. Don't say anything of this to Miguel. He is her brother, and the most insignificant thing might trouble him."
In this insidious manner the serpent tried to make his way into this paradise. And he succeeded at last. As he had wisdom enough not to take advantage of it, he soon acquired a certain familiarity in visiting at their house, but always at the time when Miguel was at home; he knew perfectly well that the least shadow of suspicion passing through his mind would be sufficient to put an end to everything—God only knew how!
He also seized upon the occasions when la brigadiera and Julia were going to call on the young couple to accompany them. The jealousy which the Brigadier's daughter had felt on the night of the party had completely vanished when she saw the brotherly familiarity with which he treated her sister-in-law, and the pains which the latter took to bring her and her cousin together, and see them talk by themselves.
"It was through you that I got married; I have made up my mind to make a match for you," said Maximina.
"Yes, but through me you married the man whom you loved," replied Julia, with a laugh.
"You love Alfonso also; don't try to deny it, Julita!" replied Maximina, kissing her.
On the other hand, Saavedra, instead of breaking the link of love which united him to his cousin, had drawn it tighter of late, perhaps so as to avoid all suspicion of his plan, or, possibly, because he had another string to his bow, and wanted to manage them both at once; for anything might be expected from his depraved character.
But already several months had passed, and his dastardly undertaking had not made any progress at all.
To be sure, in Miguel's house he each day gained a more secure footing; he often dined with them, many evenings he dropped in for a social chat, and on others accompanied them to the theatre, and Maximina treated him like a brother. But this was the very thing that annoyed the caballero: in that house he was treated like a future brother. The young wife had not been convinced by his denial, and when she saw that he still kept up his attentions to Julia, she came to believe that he had denied it either out of hypocrisy or from a spirit of opposition, but that in reality he was deeply in love with his cousin; and there was reason for this, since Julia (as Maximina believed) was the most beautiful and fascinating girl in Madrid.
After the happy birth of Maximina's son, Saavedra behaved like a consistent friend, offering such services as were in his power, coming daily to make inquiries; in short, showing so much attachment and affection to the young couple that Maximina's tender heart responded with affectionate gratitude, as was perfectly natural.
Maximina was now more graceful and beautiful than ever; like all women who are really born to be wives and mothers, and are married to the men whom they love, the august crisis through which she had passed had been advantageous to her in every way. It was hard to recognize in this handsome young woman, with rosy cheeks and sweet brilliant eyes, the pale and timid maiden of Pasajes.
The Andalusian caballero was gradually growing more and more impatient. The first part of his strategy had been carried out point by point, as he had foreseen; he had won Maximina's esteem and even affection.
The second part remained, but this was the most difficult and dangerous in its execution, the most tempting in its result.
How should he begin?
In spite of his inconceivable pride, Don Alfonso had a foreboding that he was destined to failure from the very first, and he kept putting off the attack so as not to do it rashly.
Nevertheless, as his passion and impatience kept growing each day more impetuous, and he was not a man ever to be found wanting in audacity, he tried the experiment of giving her a few muffled gallantries, and these the young wife received as the jokes of a pampered friend; then again, he would sometimes press her hand a little too warmly when he greeted her, touch her foot lightly under the table, and even pulled out a hair or two stealthily, while her lord and master was dozing in his easy-chair.
Maximina at first supposed that these things were accidental, and paid no attention to them; but as the Andalusian persisted in them, she was a little startled, though without having any clear idea of the danger, and she tried to keep him at a distance, and from that time she began to have a vague fear.
Though his first efforts met with results so far from flattering, still Don Alfonso was completely infatuated, and though he would not have been willing to confess it, he was very near losing his self-possession in which he took such pride, and ready to "throw discretion out of the window."
How this came about we shall soon see.
Miguel was very particular that his son should have plenty of fresh air; he was full of modern theories of education, and believed that children ought to live as much as possible out of doors from the earliest infancy. Thus, as soon as Maximina was able to go out, he began to take long walks with her through the Retiro. How happy our little mother was in having her husband at her side, and her baby in front of her!
And what a baby he was!
It was necessary to have followed his progress step by step, as she had for a month and a half, to appreciate the portentous gifts with which he was endowed, and the boundless resources of his unequalled genius. She would have been greatly offended had any one insinuated that he still sucked his fingers when he accidentally thrust them into his mouth; nothing of the kind! after he had been a fortnight in this vale of tears, he had raised his thumb to his mouth with the set and deliberate intention of sucking it, for nothing else. But this did not signify in the least that the said thumb was as satisfactory to him as his mamma's breast; he did it simply to amuse himself in moments of diversion. His exquisite and delicate taste was equally well shown by his energetic refusal to take the porridge which Juana had the impudence to offer him one day when his mother was having a nap.
The angry expression of his face and the screams with which he received the proposition gave no room for doubt; he would have preferred to die of hunger rather than run the risk of spoiling his digestion by such unsubstantial and harmful concoctions.
But the thing in which he best showed his practical talent, as well as the perfection of his character, was in sleeping. As soon as he was born he made up his mind that he was going to sleep twenty hours a day at the very least; all that was done to dissuade him from this intention was in vain; apparently he had weighty physiological reasons for carrying it out. When unfortunately any attention to him or attempt to keep him awake disturbed his plan, he would raise his voice to heaven, and the house in commotion.
Miguel would be the first to run to his aid, would take him in his arms and begin to walk up and down the corridors furiously, with the expectation—deluded man!—of putting him to sleep in that manner. The infant kept protesting more and more obstreperously against any such unsatisfactory method; the father would grow nervous after some time, and lest he should "dash him against the wall," he would turn him over to Juana's secular arm, but she rarely, also, had the good fortune to calm him. It was necessary to hand him over to his mother, who possessed in her beautiful and bounteous bosom the secret of putting to flight all his gloomy thoughts and making him see the world through rose-colored spectacles.